In the Shadow of a Saint
by pebbles989
Summary: As the 6th July approaches, Alice More reflects on her life and marriage.


**Hope you all enjoy and a massive thank you to Vain x Life Poetess, who persuaded me to carry on with this short story.**

**Quick notes-Have used the names Alys and Mercy for Alice's daughter Alice and Margaret Giggs so as not to cause confusion with the other Alice and Meg. Also have used some of my own theories about Alice and More's relationship for this story-hope no one minds.**

**The title is taken from Ruth Norrington's biography of Alice More. **

By the light of a small candle, she wandered around the neglected garden. As the faint light started to flicker, causing shadows to dance over the once grand flower beds, she cursed under her breath.

'Tilly-valley,' she sighed, not with any great anger, for it was with more a mournful moan of resignation about the state of things around her, as she realised what things had now come to. It was not like her to feel so defeated, for she was usually the one, who would force others to fight and carry on, so the feeling of giving up was almost so alien to her, and for that brief moment, she felt herself scared, sending a shiver down her spine.

She was use to fighting and arguing, evening with the most skilful lawyer in Christendom, to achieve her aims, but in at this twilight hour, for the first time she allows herself a moment of weakness; for with the coming of morning, Alice More knew she would find herself a widow for the second time in her life.

Her feet her aching, causing her to sit down amid the flower beds and surveys the damaged done from neglect. She had hardly any servants now and the ones who did remain, had chores that were more pressing than weeding the rose garden. But with her own hands, Alice has tried to keep the flowers in order. Meg had also tried to help, whilst that self-important peacock of a husband of hers, had watched them scurry in the dirt, on their hands and knees, as he ranted about their poverty. Not that it ever occurred to him to help his poor wife's family out, in their hour of need, Alice always retorted to him, causing his cheeks to glow red. But it still did no good- he never granted them a penny.

'Poor Thomas always was a soft fool,' muttered Alice, managing a brief, small smile, as she remembered the state of her husband's accounts, when she became his wife all those years ago. But then, with the recalling of a happier time, she suddenly then remembered the reasons for the family's current state, 'poor, foolish Thomas,'

Alice still could not understand how it had come to this. She could not fathom what had driven her husband to refuse to swear to a simply oath-the consequences of which, now had him awaiting his death in the Tower, whilst his family crumbled into penury.

Despite desperately wanting to understand, and Alice had tried with all her might to follow his reasoning, but in the end, she could not; for surely as long as your heart and God knew the truth, what difference did it matter if the words tumbling from your mouth where different? But neither of them could follow each other's logic, and consequently they had argued or rather debated-for it was always difficult to argue with Thomas-over the matter, though in the end, neither had won the other over to their way of thinking. It had ended with a stalemate and estrangement, with him in the Tower and her in the ruins of their old lives.

Picking up a broken rose, Alice studied it by the small flame. The stem was broken, but its petals were still intact. A bit like her marriage, she thought, holding it briefly to her heart, for despite their last meeting and the everlasting absence of her, from his last letter to his family, she still loved him and Alice was certain, that Thomas still loved her. She knew what certain friends of his thought of her_-'the infamous harpy, with the hooked nose'-_ was one of many names those churls would call her in Latin to her face. Not that it ever truly bothered Alice- for they did not know what she called them to their faces in English! They also, much like the rest of the world, did not truly know what passed between a husband and wife. No matter how much they wrote about her husband, they would never fully know the truth of what past between him and her. They did not know about her and Thomas private jokes. They would never understand what it was, which made them rub alongside each other successfully, for over twenty years. Nor would they ever be told, that the absence of children was not because she was too old to produce them or too ugly for her husband to find the courage to touch her, but because she did not want any more.

Staring at the rose and pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders, as the midsummer night was still quite cool, Alice recalled the morning when Thomas had asked her to marry him.

It was not romantic. They had sat facing each other across a table in her late husband's house. She knew what he had wanted, before he even opened his mouth, so she had decided to beat him to it.

'Let's just call a spade, a spade, Mister More,' she had said, slapping her hands down on the table as she spoke, 'you need a wife and I am missing a husband. So between the two of us, do you think we can make the perfect marriage?'

'How did you guess, Mistress Middleton,' Thomas replied with a smile, reaching to take her hand, ' I have obviously done you a great disservice, for I had thought, I would need to persuade both you and your family of the benefits,'

'You are not in court now, Mister More, nor to you need to have an education to see the benefits. We both have money and connections, together we could do much,' Alice answered, looking down at their linked hands with a raised eyebrow, 'so I will accept your offer on one condition… Did you know I was expecting a child when my late husband died? A boy, the one thing my departed husband had longed for in whole world. He even made provisions for it in his will and everything, but it made no difference in the end. My son died before it even had a chance to draw breath and at the same time, my daughter Helen decided to join him with the angels…You are a clever man, Mister More, so you must understand what I am trying to tell you. I will be a good mother to your children and you will be a good father to Alys, but I will bear you no more. I am as strong as a lion, but even lions suffer, when they feel their heart ripped in two,'

He had readily agreed, though Alice had not counted on the hairshirt, but then he had not counted on her refusal to learn Latin and Ancient Greek. Not that either had given up easily. She had beg their priest to plead with Thomas about putting that instrument of torture aside, whilst he at every opportunity had tried to get her to study the speeches of some little upstart named Cicero.

'Latin may feed your mind, husband,' Alice said aloud as she replayed the memory, 'but it won't put food in your children bellies!'

In the end, they had both admitted defeat. What use had Alice for Latin anyway? Though she had not minded the music-that was actually rather fun, especially when she realised her singing voice was better than Thomas'.

Looking up at the sky, she saw that night was starting to turn into day and Alice wondered how her children were feeling. She knew Meg would be in the chapel, praying with tears streaming down her inconsolable face, but she knew her oldest step-daughter would not be alone. Elizabeth, Cecily, John, Mercy and Anne were all heartbroken by Thomas stand. Even Alice's own daughter was left wretched by her step-father's refusal to sign. He had been a good father to her and a good grandfather to the many children God had blessed Alys with. They had all adored him. Their large house would certainly be empty of laughter for many days to come.

'Why God did he not just sign?' cried Alice, aloud , in a rough type of prayer, 'Lord if I could see him now, I would force his hand to sign that blood piece of paper!'

She did not care if Meg heard her prayer, for she suspected that there was some part of Meg that wish she could agree with her stepmother's sentiments, even if she refused to voice them. Alice wished Meg had seen sense and stood by her and not her father, because Alice very much doubted Meg could survive without the man, who had been the centre of her world since the moment she took her first breath.

There was no deny Meg's place in her father's heart, any one with half a sight could see that but they would be wrong to think Alice jealous. What would be the point? Meg could give him conversation, which she would not. They could debate the finer points of whatever texts they were reading in Latin until the cows come, for it made no difference to Alice, for they had other things to talk and laugh about. She may not have been intellectual, but he realised she had other things, she could do.

It was Alice who oversaw the running of the household. It was Alice who managed the money, so that they were all fed, watered and clothed. It was Alice who ran the estate. It was Alice who held everything together and carried out Thomas' wishes, after their barn had burnt to the ground. It was her, who he had asked to make sure that while he was away, that family were always Godly and observed the ways of the Lord. And it was her, who always made sure that the children were never distracted from their studies, that they always worked hard, that they always wrote their letters to their absent father and that they never caused any mischief for their tutors. It was her. It was all Alice.

And that was why she could not support him and it was why she knew, that despite the lack of a final goodbye, she knew he loved her.

He had his conviction and so did she. Thomas had always lived his life by his belief in God and Alice lived her life around the belief that God had placed her here, with the sole purpose of holding her family together. Because that's what they had been before the King had decided to put away his lawful wife for the Scandal of Christendom and thats what they would continue to be after the axe did its terrible duty in a few hours' time.

Slowly and wearily, Alice got to her feet, noticing that light was starting to break through the dark sky. Soon the fateful moment would be upon them and they would have to all find a way to carry on as before.

'God forgive me,' muttered Alice, as she hurried back to the house, reflecting with a kind of relief that now they had a definite answer to the pain-the same as the King would finally have the solution to the embarrassing problem that was Alice's husband. All Alice could hope was that the matter would end there.

It was going to be a difficult task itself, without the added burden of the King wanting to continue inflicting his wrath on the family of his once great friend. Holding them altogether, along with the torment of Meg's broken heart and that foolish Roper eye up what was left of the family legacy, was going to be a difficult task in itself, without feeling the breath of a vengeful King at her neck. No, this would be a struggle and it would be Alice's one and no one else's-for that was why God had placed Alice here and it was why she could not condone her husband's actions.

When that barn had burnt down that late summer day, she had been the one who had picked up the pieces and made everyone carry on. And Thomas had known it was her calling too, when he had sent her the letter from Woodstock, telling her to take the household to church, to give thanks for all the gifts God had bestow upon them. It was the only letter she had left from her husband, all the rest she burnt in a fit of anger, when she found she was missing from his final goodbye, but this one she kept, because it reaffirmed her belief and the belief he had in her. That God had sent her here to keep them altogether in times of strife and she had done it many times before and now she would do it again.

As she reached the door of the house, Alice found she felt calmer with the added urge that she would join Meg in the chapel. Perhaps she had been forgotten in Thomas final goodbye and yes, never outwardly understood him the way his oldest daughter did, but that meant very little now to Alice and to her husband-the husband who had married her, so she could look after and care for his family and who had implored them all to be of good cheer when mishaps befell them. He had not ignored her out of spit and her condemnation of him had not been out of malice, it had been out of the notion that they both knew she could not stand by his side, for that would go against very word of God and his divine plan. Now she would have to play the role God had given her to perfection, if she was to stand any chance of holding all of this together.

'Merry in Heaven,' she laughed, trying to ignore the silent tear, which rolled down her cheek.


End file.
